


Tell Me a Story

by jalapeno_jazz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Daddy Draco, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, The Mourning Madam's Once Upon A Time Dramione Fairy Tale Fest, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_jazz/pseuds/jalapeno_jazz
Summary: Draco is absolutely, completely wrapped around his daughter's finger. He knows it. She knows it. And she knows that he knows that she knows it.





	Tell Me a Story

**Author's Note:**

> Created for The Mourning Madam's Once Upon A Time Dramione Fairy Tale Fest
> 
> Ahh...what a fun fest. This story is based on the Indian Fairy Tale, How the Raja's Son Won the Princess Labam, a traditional tale which exists in many forms. I've tried to stay fairly close to the story, while transporting it to England and setting it in D and H's world. I hope you enjoy!

His day finally wrapped up, Draco stepped through the Floo and into his living room. He grinned broadly as first he heard and then saw his four year old daughter, Lyra, come barreling into the room and launch herself towards him.

“Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!” She alerted the household — as if there had been any question about his arrival.

Quickly setting his cloak aside, Draco swept his daughter up into his arms and presented his cheek for the kisses that were sure to follow. As Lyra finished her greeting, a second set of arms, shorter and chubbier than the first, demanded his attention.

“Da.” He held his arms out and then repeated it for emphasis. “Da.”

At a little over a year old, Scorpius couldn’t move quite as fast as his sister, but what he lacked in speed, he made up for in enthusiasm. Shifting Lyra to one side, Draco reached down and picked up her brother who mimicked his sister’s behavior, planting kisses on his father’s other cheek.

As the two children peppered their father’s face with kisses and stories about their day — at least on Lyra’s part, Draco strode down the hall in search of his wife. He found her in the nursery, where it appeared that she had been reading them a story before bedtime. Hermione looked up at him with one eyebrow raised, admonishing him without even muttering a word.

He gave her a guilty grin in response, depositing the children back onto Lyra’s bed, while bending over to kiss his wife. Yes, he knew it was near bedtime - that was why he had been trying to get home - to catch the children before they went to sleep. However, he hadn’t meant to interrupt the evening routine. Story time was the last step before they went to sleep, and here both children were now excited and bright eyed. It would be a few minutes before they settled back down.

“Hello, Love. Do you want me to take over from here?” It was a sincere offer. The only thing Draco loved more than his children was the woman who had given them to him. For all the differences in how he had been raised, there truly was nothing he liked better than spending time with his family. He had blown off an evening of drinks with Theo and Blaise to make it home to see them while they were still awake.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Lyra bounced up and down and squealed with delight.

“Yes, Daddy. Please!”

Scorpius, not wanting to be left out, imitated his sister, saying “Peez!”

He chuckled to himself, as his wife gave him exactly the look he expected. Hermione had probably known that she had lost the battle for bedtime as soon as the Floo sounded. He could guess that it had only taken Lyra a moment to launch herself off of the bed and run out of the room, her brother sliding down the side of the bed and following her as fast as his little legs would carry him. She put down the book they had been reading, presumably for Draco to finish - there were only a few pages left. Draco was now in charge of putting the two rapscallions to bed.

While Draco unfastened his robes and kicked off his shoes, Hermione got Lyra and Scorpius settled in Lyra’s bed…again and kissed each of them on the forehead and smiled. It was a source of pride to Draco that she only held a fraction of their attention, now that Daddy was home. He knew that she was quite alright with that — she was thrilled that Scorpius had finally reached a stage when he didn’t insist on being glued to her side every possible moment. He loved his big sister and wanted to do everything she did. And Lyra, well, she had been born a Daddy’s girl.

As Hermione left the room, she pulled the door shut behind her, and Draco made himself comfortable on the bed. He nestled between his two children, pulling his daughter close to his side and putting Scorpius on his lap.

Lyra quickly closed the book that Hermione had left on the bed and set it aside, turning to her father with a bit of a mischievous look. “Tell us a story, Daddy. We want to hear a story.”

“Tory.” Scorpius parroted.

Draco smiled. He knew this game. His daughter would try to delay bedtime as long as she could get away with it.

“Well, Lyra, I don’t think I know any stories.” He deadpanned.

“Dad-dy…” Lyra drawled, much like her father would have when he was younger and had wanted something. “Of course, you know stories. You know all the best stories, Daddy.” She emphasized, giving him a look that could melt even a Frost Giant’s heart. He was positive that whether her mother liked it or not, Lyra would be sorted into Slytherin.

“Well,” he hedged. “Maybe I know a few. Which story do you want to hear?”

Lyra carefully pondered her options. Scorpius just wiggled, excited to begin, and Draco ruffled his blond hair.

“Tell us the story of how you met Mummy!” She exclaimed, clearly pleased with her choice.

“Now, Lyra, you know that’s a rather long story.” He knew where this was going.

“Oh, but Dad-dy, you don’t have to tell us the whole thing tonight! You can just start it.”

She tilted her head and gave him a pleading look, “Pl-ease?”

“Peez.” Scorpius joined in, not even knowing what his sister was asking, happy to insert himself into the conversation.

Draco eyed the two, suppressing his smile. “Well, alright. I supposed we can start it. But, when it’s time for bed, it’s time for bed.” He said firmly, both he and Lyra knowing that wasn’t true…strictly speaking.

“A long time ago, there was a prince who lived with his parents in a castle.”

“That prince was you!” Lyra exclaimed.

Draco nodded. “Mmhmm. That’s right, Lyra.”

He continued. “His parents wanted the prince to be happy, and so they gave him everything he could ever want.”

“Like toys and books and chocolate frogs?” Lyra asked.

“Sometimes.” Draco answered her question. The questions and answers were part of what made the story so long.

Draco thought about his childhood, knowing he had been a spoiled git. While he was fond of his parents - his mother especially, their affections had come in a more detached and less personal way - the traditional Pureblood way. He had a childhood full of things but light on intimacy and interaction. It was one of the reasons he was making a point to raise his children differently — that and the insistence of his Muggle-born wife.

“But Daddy…” Lyra began. “Why can’t we have as many chocolate frogs as we want?”

Draco smirked. “Well, for one, your grandparents are dentists. They would tell you that too much chocolate is bad for your teeth.”

“And besides, things can’t make you happy.” Draco emphasized.

Lyra pouted, clearly not happy with that answer, her brow furrowed in thought.

“I don’t know, Daddy. Chocolate frogs make me really happy. And having my own broom would too.” She gave a side-long glance at her father, checking to see how far she could push him.

While he would readily admit that she had him completely wrapped around her finger, Draco didn’t take the bait. “Lyra,” he cautioned, “did you want to hear the story or not?”

Lyra vigorously nodded her head and settled back against her father’s side.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her wild blonde curls that were so like her mother’s although finer and in the signature Malfoy color, and began again. “Now, where were we?”

“With the prince.” She sighed.

“Ahh…yes. The prince who had everything.” He began again. “One day, the prince went hunting in the woods…”

“What was he hunting, Daddy?”

“Lyra…” Draco cautioned. They wouldn’t get through any of the story before Hermione came back to check on them at this rate. And he was sure that she would come back, as she knew that Draco’s skills at sealing the deal and making sure the children actually went to sleep were not as strong as her own. What could he say… he loved the time with them.

Lyra’s eyes widened and she pressed her lips closed. He chuckled to himself thinking he may have bought himself a whole minute of silence, if he was lucky.

“One day, the prince went hunting in the woods. Now, his parents had said that he could hunt on three sides of their land, but that he mustn’t go across the creek that was to the south, as the Forbidden Forest lay that way.”

“Why was it Forbidden, Daddy?”

This question he would answer. It was part of the story, after all.

“On the other side of the Forbidden Forest lay a land with other people who were different than the prince and his family. His parents were worried that if he heard talk of the people who lived on the other side, he would leave them and not come back.”

“That’s silly, Daddy. Why would he leave his parents?”

He hugged his daughter closer, knowing that while that seemed logical to Lyra right now, there would come a time when she too would fly the nest — although it would be a very long time from now, if he had anything to do with it.

"One day, while tracking a silvery doe that he had spotted, the prince looked up and realized that the woods were quite different than he was used to. Without realizing it, he had entered the Forbidden Forest.”

Lyra sucked in her breath, and Scorpius followed suit, giggling at the end.

“This forest was darker and colder than any that the prince had been in before. The prince wandered around, trying to find his way out, but he was hopelessly lost. He had almost given up hope when he heard someone talking. He crept closer and found a group of Centaurs talking about a beautiful princess.’

“No, Daddy!” Lyra interjected.

“What?” He asked. “She wasn’t beautiful?”

Lyra huffed. “Of course she was beautiful. All princesses are beautiful.” She said, as if this were a matter-of-fact. “But this princess was the _smartest_ princess!”

Draco nodded his head. “Of course, you are right, Lyra. This princess was both beautiful AND smart.” He agreed.

“The smartest!” Lyra said again for good measure.

Draco continued. “The prince was quite intrigued about this princess. He had thought himself to be quite clever, but to hear the Centaurs talk, this princess was not only incredibly smart, but also wise.”

“The prince had hidden himself behind a tree while listening to the Centaurs, but all of a sudden he heard a noise behind him, and turned to find an angry Centaur watching him.”

“Because it’s not polite to eavesdrop, right, Daddy?”

“That’s right, dear.” He agreed, knowing full well her Slytherin tendencies caused her to pause outside of a door before entering a room. It was only self-preservation, after all. (At least, that was what he told himself.) Better to know what you were walking into.

“The angry Centaur grabbed the prince by his collar and dragged him into the circle where the other Centaurs were…”

“Daddy, do girl Centaurs have breasts like Mummy’s?” Lyra asked in an innocent tone.

Draco sat up tall, his eyes wide open. Scorpius frowned at the sudden movement. He had been rather comfortable in his father’s lap.

“Uh… Lyra… .” That was definitely a new question. He fumbled for an answer. “Uh… I think that’s a question you should ask your mother.”

She started to scoot towards the edge of the bed, but he caught her and pulled her back over to him. “Not right now, love. Tomorrow.”

Lyra nodded her head emphatically, understanding that story time might come to an end sooner, if her mother was alerted. “Tomorrow. Okay, Daddy.”

They all settled back in, and Draco continued.

“Some of the Centaurs were angry that the prince had wandered into their forest, but the Chief Centaur quieted them. He asked the prince what he was doing in the forest.

The prince explained that he lived in the Castle on the other side of the stream and that he had gotten lost while tracking a silver doe.

The Chief Centaur was a reasonable being, and the prince knew he was likely not in danger from them, as long as he didn’t raise his wand or insult them, or something silly like that. The Chief asked one of the Centaurs to lead the prince back to the stream, so he could find his way home.”

“Did the Centaur let him ride on his back, Daddy?” Lyra asked expectantly.

“No, Lyra. Centaurs never let people ride on their backs. It’s not allowed.”

Lyra crossed her arms. “That’s not what Uncle Harry said.”

He hastened to head off her inquiry. “I tell you, it’s very, very rare. It just doesn’t happen.”

Lyra gave him a look that suggested she was going to let this one slide… this time.

Draco sighed. He would forever be cleaning up after Potter. Clearly, his daughter paid too much attention to Harry’s stories, as well. He made a mental note to mention to Hermione that she might want to check with Ginny about the bedtime story selection in the Potter household. There were plenty of tales that Lyra didn’t need to know quite yet, although James and Albus probably listened with rapt attention.

All of a sudden, an idea came to him. “You know, dear. Since Uncle Harry knows so much about Centaurs, you should ask him about the girl Centaurs. He’ll be able to tell you.” He smirked, quite pleased with himself. He was sure Potter would love fielding that question much as he had — and he had no doubt that Lyra would ask her beloved Uncle Harry. Draco just hoped that he would be in the room when she did.

“Now, where were we… As they walked, the Prince asked the Centaur about the princess, because he was quite curious about her.”

“And what did the Centaur tell him?” Lyra prompted.

“He told the prince the stories he had heard about the Golden Princess that lived on the other side of the Forbidden Forest, in a land called Hampstead that the prince had never even heard of. And he told him how this land had all kinds of wonders that prince knew nothing about.”

“What kinds of things?” Lyra prompted.

“Ooh…amazing things like televisions and supermarkets and even funny metal boxes on wheels that move on the ground without Thestrals to pull them.”

“You mean cars, Daddy? That’s silly. All of those things exist. And why wouldn’t the prince know about televisions? How would he ever watch Shaun the Sheep?”

“Well, that’s just it, love. The prince hadn’t realized it, but he had led a very sheltered life.”

Lyra looked at him as if that was simply crazy. For his part, Draco agreed with his daughter, thinking about how he had grown up knowing so little of the Muggle world, and how curious so many things had been for him when he had encountered them for the first time.

“The Centaur said while he had heard of such tales, he hadn’t seen them for himself. The two walked along in silence for some time, the prince’s head filled with thoughts of this strange land and the Golden Princess who lived there, wondering if it really existed. When they reached the stream, the Centaur said goodbye and the prince headed home.

It was quite late when he finally made it home. He had missed supper and his parents had been quite worried for their prince. But they grew even more so when he retired to his chambers without so much as a word to them, and for the next two days, the prince didn’t emerge from his room.”

“Didn’t he get hungry?” Lyra interjected.

“He did, but I’m sure that Mipsy would have snuck him a bit of cake… just like she does for you sometimes.” He answered, raising a knowing eyebrow at his daughter, and lightly touching her nose.

She giggled, but chose to not respond, knowing full well it was true.

Draco continued. “On the third day, he emerged from his room and went to see his parents. He told them that he wanted to go see the Golden Princess for himself, and her world that was so different than his own. He wanted to see televisions and supermarkets and even automobiles. His parents were aghast. They didn’t know where he had heard such things, and realized that he must have gone into the Forbidden Forest.”

The room was quiet, both children hung on their father’s every word.

“For three days the prince’s parent argued with him, explaining that his duty was to remain here with his family, and that surely he didn’t need such dangerous things as televisions and supermarkets.”

At this, Lyra couldn’t contain herself. “Daddy, is that why Nana doesn’t have a tv in her house? She’s afraid that it’s dangerous?”

Draco chuckled. There was much his children didn’t know yet. Unlike both he and Hermione, Lyra and Scorpius were being raised to straddle between the Magical and Muggle worlds, knowing and appreciating both equally. Lyra was just old enough to start recognizing the differences, but she didn’t know why they were that way, just that they were there. However, she equally loved her grandparents, the warm and caring Grangers who didn’t have wands, but who introduced her to their own type of Muggle-magic - computers and movie theaters. They were contrasted with his own parents, who also loved their grandchildren, but were a bit more reserved, with a house big enough to get lost in and pictures on the wall that talked to her, wanting to ensure that the next generation of Malfoys would know all the proper traditions. And certainly, his parents would never have a television.

He pressed on, “But the prince couldn’t be persuaded. He had made up his mind. He would go and find the Golden Princess and see these things for himself.

His parents were very sad for the prince to leave, but his mother packed some food for him to take on his journey and his father saddled his best horse to carry his son and gave him a bag full of galleons to carry.”

Draco heard a small sniffle and looked down at his daughter and saw her bottom lip quiver.

“Lyra, what wrong, love?”

“It… it’s that sad part, Daddy.” She sniffed again and dropped her head.

She was quite dramatic, that one. Draco bit back a grin. Scorpius was eyeing his sister with a concerned look on his face. If Draco wasn’t careful, he’d have two sniffling children on his hands, with the chance that it could escalate rather quickly.

“Well, now we get to the prince’s adventure, yes?”

Lyra peered up at him with expectant eyes, seeming to have miraculously conquered her bout of melancholy. “Go on, Daddy,” she prompted.

“The prince set off on his horse, unsure of how he would find the Golden Princess. He only knew that the land of Hampstead lay somewhere on the other side of the Forbidden Forest. So, for the second time, he entered the forest.

While the prince could ride his horse, he rode, and when the trees were too dense to ride, he led his horse through the brush. He had walked for what seemed like hours before he came to a clearing with a small stream nearby. He stopped to rest and give his horse some water.

He took out the packet of food that his mother had given him and opened it, finding inside his favorite biscuits. As he took one out to eat, he heard a rustling and looked up to see a small fairy flying in front of him. He broke off a small piece of the biscuit and held it out, and the fairy flew up to him and took it.”

“Daddy, were these like the fairies that live in Nana’s rosebushes?”

“Very much like them, I would think.”

“Well, Aunt Luna says that they stay hidden in the rosebushes so they can stay safe from all the Wrackspurts inside the house. Is that true, Daddy? What is a Wrackspurt? I’ve never seen one.

Draco tried very hard to not roll his eyes. Of all of Hermione’s friends, Loony Lovegood was the one he still had to watch himself around. Whether her oddly-piercing gaze, the unusual charms she just happened to leave behind, or her insistence that she could see things that the rest of them couldn’t. He would not have her filling his children’s heads with such nonsense, especially about the Manor.

“No, Lyra, that’s not something you need to worry about. Aunt Luna must have been confused.” He hoped that would be enough of an answer for her.

“I’ll ask Mummy. She knows these things.” Lyra said in a self-assured tone. “Tomorrow.” She smiled and nodded her head as she said the last word, recalling his earlier comment.

Draco sighed. Such was the way of his world.

“Now, where were we? Ah yes, with the fairies.”

“No.” Lyra interrupted. “There was only one fairy so far.”

“Yes, but as soon as the prince handed a piece of his biscuit to the first fairy, another fairy appeared. So, he broke off another piece of his biscuit and gave it to that fairy. And then another flew over… And so it went, until the prince realized that he had shared all of his biscuits with the fae. While he watched them enjoy the treats, a larger fairy came over - it was the King of the Fae. He had been watching the prince and saw what he had done, that he had shared his food with the fae.”

“How did he know he was the king, Daddy? Did he wear a crown?”

“Ah, no. He didn’t wear a crown, but the king was a bit bigger than the rest, and when he spoke the prince could understand him, unlike the rest of the fairies. The king thanked the prince for his kindness and said ‘You have been good to us. If you are ever in trouble. Think of me, and we will come to you.’”

“When I’m older, I’m going to learn to talk to the fairies.” Lyra declared with all the conviction of a four year old.

“Mmhmm,” Draco acknowledged. He didn’t doubt her for a minute.

The prince mounted his horse and continued his journey, but after a while, he heard a loud noise ahead on his path. As he came closer, he saw a giant jumping around and holding his foot while he howled in pain. And as he jumped, the ground shook around him.”

“How big was he, Daddy? Was he big like Grawp or more like the giant in Jack in the Beanstalk?” Lyra intoned.

This was the trouble raising children in the Magical world, but also reading Muggle fairy tales that didn’t always get the facts right. Unlike the fairy tales they read, his daughter knew of real giants — they were not simply the stuff of legend to her. Granted, the one giant she had met was slightly undersized, but still, it was a real giant, unlike all that Fee Fi Fo Fum rubbish.

“He was just a little bigger than Grawp, I suppose.”

Lyra nodded, satisfied with his answer.

“‘Why do you roar like that?’ The prince asked the giant. ‘What is the matter with you?’

‘I have a thorn stuck in my foot. It hurts me so; that is why I roar.’ explained the giant.

‘Well,’ said the prince. ‘I will take it out and heal it for you. But perhaps, as you are a giant, when I have made you well, you may hurt me?’

‘Oh, no,’ said the giant. ‘I won’t eat you. Do make me well.’

So, the prince took a small knife out of his pocket and cut the thorn out of the giant’s foot; but when he cut, the giant roared even louder. In fact, it was so loud, that the giant’s wife heard and came running to see what was the matter.”

“I bet that was really loud, Daddy,” Lyra said with all seriousness.

“It was.” Draco answered.

Suddenly, Scorpius let out his own imitation of the giant. “RAWR!” He bellowed, making both his father and sister jump in surprise. He looked delighted at their reaction.

“Just like that, Scorp.” Draco reached down and tussled the toddler’s hair.

“The prince hid behind a tree, so the giant’s wife couldn’t see him, but when she arrived, she sniffed the air, as if she could smell him.

The giant’s wife entered the clearing where her husband still sat on the ground. ‘What man hurt you that you roared so loud?’ she said.

‘No one hurt me,’ answered her husband, ‘but a prince came and took the thorn out of my foot.’

‘Where is he now? Show him to me,’ demanded his wife.

‘Only if you promise not to kill him, I will call him,’ said the giant.

‘If he hasn’t hurt you, I won’t kill him. I only want to see him.’

So, the giant called to the prince who stepped from behind the tree, although he was rather concerned to be in the company of not one, but now two giants.

‘If you would like, I can heal your foot now,’ he said to the giant. The giant nodded, so he took out his wand and muttered a healing spell.” He paused, primed for an interruption.

Lyra did not disappoint. At the mention of the healing spell, she had sat right up. “Which one, Daddy? Was it _Tergeo_? Aunt Ginny has to use that one on James and Albus. They get hurt a lot. Or _Episkey_? Mummy knows that one.

“Given it was a giant, the magic would have to be very strong. Maybe _Pes Sanare_.” Draco explained.

Lyra sat back, contemplating his answer, her brow furrowed. “I don’t know that one, Daddy. Can you show me?” She held out her arm expectantly.

Draco grasped his daughter’s empty hand in his own and traced the wand movement for the spell in the air. After he released her hand, hers remained upright, continuing to trace the motion on her own. She was a quick study - he wasn’t sure what Hogwarts would do to keep her engaged when she finally started there. It was all Draco and Hermione could do to keep up with her now. Sometimes he wondered how much of the first year curriculum she would have mastered before arriving there. She had no wand yet, but that didn’t stop her from memorizing spells and wand movements (or helping her parents make potions, for that matter).

Lyra seemed to want to know everything all at once. Draco knew that Hermione couldn’t be more proud. Lyra was growing up as inquisitive as she herself had, but with an understanding of the world of magic from the beginning. He recalled stories told by the Grangers of awkward moments trying to explain accidental bouts of magic when they themselves had no idea what was going on. Hermione’s childhood had had its challenging moments.

In contrast, their children had plenty of cousins and friends who Lyra could relate to and didn’t have to hide from. And a sibling, something neither of them had had — and while he wouldn’t pressure his wife, Draco knew he would be perfectly willing to add to that number, as well.

He checked his watch. It was getting late. He was surprised Hermione had not yet checked back in on them.

Lyra’s arm stilled. She must have seen Draco check the time.

“It’s almost time,” he said. It was always better to manage bedtime expectations.

Despite his recent outburst, Scorpius’ eyelids were growing heavy.

“Five more minutes, Daddy. The prince hasn’t even reached Hampstead yet.”

Lyra peered up at him with big, expressive brown eyes - eyes very much like her mother’s. He knew he was done for and he knew she knew he was done for.

“Alright. Five minutes,”Draco said, trying to make it sound like that had been his plan all along. “But then you can’t interrupt. Otherwise, it will be bedtime right away.”

He attempted to give his daughter a rather stern look, which was met with a more than skeptical smirk on her part. He sighed and sat back again.

“The giant’s wife was very happy that her husband’s foot had been healed. So, she invited the prince to stay with them. The prince was pleased to have a place to spend the night and to have a meal to share. The next morning as he set out, well-rested and well-fed, he said his good-byes and the giant told him, “If ever you are in any trouble, think of me, and we will come to you.”

The prince mounted his horse and rode on in the Forbidden Forest. After a while, he came to three trolls who were arguing with each other over some items on the ground. The trolls were rather large, and the prince could’t go around them, so he stopped to ask what was going on.”

Lyra giggled. “What were their names, Daddy?”

Draco thought for a moment, giving the first three names that popped into his head. “Uh…their names were Flint and Crabbe and Goyle.”

“Ooh…like Arianna Flint?” Lyra asked.

Oops. Draco had forgotten that Lyra now knew the Flint’s young daughter. She was only a year or two older than Lyra. While he didn’t much care for Marcus Flint, he also didn’t want his daughter running around saying he or his family were trolls. Even though Lyra was bright, she didn’t have the best sense of discretion quite yet. He had two options. He could try to backtrack, which meant that she would probably zero in on this statement with singular focus, filing away the comment in her steel-trap of a mind. Or, he could try confusion, although he wasn’t sure she would fall for that, either. He decided on the second.

“No, no. Not like Arianna. The name was Plint.” Clearly, he’d have to come up with some new names to use. At least she seemed satisfied with his answer.

“The three trolls were fighting over some items they had found in the road: a broom that would take the rider wherever they wanted to go, a bag that gave its owner whatever they wanted, and a stone bowl that provided its owner as much water as needed.”

“That’s impossible!” Lyra exclaimed.

“Huh? It’s magic.” Draco asked confused. This was a fairy tale, after all. There had to be some belief suspended.

Lyra was in a huff. She folded her arms and looked up at him. “No, Daddy. That’s not how it works. You forgot about Gamp’s Law.”

Draco sighed. He was in so much trouble. This is what you got when you tried to answer all of your child's questions. They pointed that knowledge right back at you. He wondered if his parents' cool detachment had saved them from much of this, letting an elf be the primary caregiver for much of his childhood. “That’s right, Lyra. You can transfigure water, but not food. But, in a story, sometimes things happen that aren’t quite like the real world.”

“You mean like pretend?” She gave him a quizzical look.

“Yes, just like that.” He was glad she had come up with an answer because he wasn’t sure how he was going to untangle that one. At least she seemed satisfied.

“Now…where were we… Ahh... As the prince came upon the trolls, he heard them arguing over the three things. One said, ‘I want this;’ another said, ‘You cannot have it, for I want it;’ and so on.

The prince told the trolls that he could help them decide who would get which item. He would shoot three arrows in three different directions. Whoever found the first arrow would get the first item - the broom (even though it seemed quite small for a troll). Whoever found the second arrow would get the bag, and whoever found the third arrow would get the stone bowl. The trolls agreed to this.

“Trolls aren’t very smart, are they, Daddy?”

“No, love. They certainly aren’t. Just ask your mother.” He replied with a chuckle, thinking about his early years at Hogwarts, and the story Hermione had told of her first Halloween in the castle. It was a wonder he and Hermione had even ended up together, given the animosity between them when they were both younger — and he didn’t know any better. He was a lucky man that she had deigned to give him the time of day once they were grown, that was sure.

“And so the prince shot off the first arrow and the trolls raced to get it. When they brought it back, he shot off the second, and when they found and brought it to him, he shot off the third.

While the trolls were looking for the third arrow, the prince let his horse loose in the forest and mounted the broom, taking the bowl and the bag with him. Then he said, ‘Broom, take me to the land of the Golden Princess.’ Instantly, the broom rose in the air and began to fly. It flew and flew over the forest until it came to a clearing with a most curious house built on it, and then it landed. The prince took a look around. There were hills and fields as far as he could see, save for the house in front of him. It was rather crooked and the roof was patched, but it had the air of being a safe and welcoming place.

The prince got off of his broom knocked on the door of the house, wanting to know where he had landed. A old woman with shockingly red hair answered the door… ”

“Must be a Weasley,” intoned Lyra, as if she had heard the phrase before.

Draco supposed she had — most likely from one of his parents. He turned and fixed his daughter with as stern an expression as he could muster, given he was holding back a laugh.

“The prince asked the woman, ‘Where am I? What land is this?’

The woman studied the prince’s face for a minute, as if startled to see a stranger, but decided to answer him. ‘You are in Hampstead, of course, the land of the Golden Princess. And who are you?’

The prince answered her, ‘I come from a land far away. Would you have space for me to stay for the night?’

At the prince’s request, the old woman’s eyes grew big. She answered him, ‘No. I cannot let you stay with me; for the king of this land has ordered that men from other countries may not stay in this country. You cannot stay at my house.’

The prince was perplexed. He had not come this far to turn around. He realized that the woman must need some gentle persuasion. ‘Dear Aunty, let me remain with you for just this one night. It is almost evening, and if I go into the forest, wild beasts may eat me. Instead, let us share a meal with the provisions I have brought and a warm hearth tonight.’

At this, the woman’s expression softened, for she did not have much food, and a good meal was hard to come by. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘you may stay here tonight; but tomorrow morning, you must go away, for if the king hears you have passed the night in my house, he will have me seized and put into prison.’

Draco paused as he sensed a change in the weight in his arms. He looked down to see that Scorpius had finally fallen asleep and Lyra’s eyes were starting to droop.

He cradled his son with one hand and moved to put him in his crib.

“No, Daddy. Not yet.” Lyra mumbled as she felt her father’s weight shift.

“It’s bedtime, kitten. We’ll finish tomorrow.” He said, as she was already nestling in her blankets with her eyes closed. He settled Scorpius and then returned to tuck in Lyra and kiss her forehead. As he left the room, he turned out the light, pausing for a moment to look back at his sleeping children.

Draco found his wife on the sofa, curled up reading a book. She sat up as he entered the room, and put her book down. He sat down next to her, moving her legs to rest in his lap. He ignored her raised eyebrow and quickly began massaging her feet. If he found the right spot fast enough, she wouldn’t mention how long it had taken him to get the children to sleep. He said nothing, instead waiting for her reaction. As he pressed deeply under the ball of Hermione’s foot, she sighed and relaxed against the back of the couch. He exhaled, knowing that if he made her sigh like that, he couldn’t be in too much trouble.


End file.
